


Distill The Life That's Inside Of Me

by mzhlf



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Family Feels, I might have cheated just a tad, Krypton au, featuring a take on a Kryptonian!Alex, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzhlf/pseuds/mzhlf
Summary: General Danvers Week 2 - Day 1 - Krypton AUAstra's ideal life in Argo City unravels when she receives an unexpected visitor.





	Distill The Life That's Inside Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm gonna start a series so that all my stories about in-between worlds can exist in one place.
> 
> The title was taken from Nirvana - Pennyroyal Tea.

Lips press gently against the corner of Astra’s mouth. This is the first sensation she is aware of.

It doesn’t feel like she’s waking up. There is no harsh sunlight, no deafening noise chasing away the fog of uneasy sleep. Her surroundings are quiet and pleasantly dim. Even though she’s laying in bed, Astra feels perfectly lucid.

The kiss is not what wakes her - she can’t remember what, if anything, did. But it does stir her from stillness, the warmth of intimate familiarity eliciting a reflexive smile.

The soft, red light of Rao filters into her eyes. A woman is leaning over her. She is beautiful, with sharp, delicate features and the knife-straight edges of her cropped hair framing her chin. Astra knows her, of this she’s certain, but any detail beyond that is temporarily out of reach.

Who is she? Astra has spoken her name countless times for years.

“Al -” she starts... but the rest of it falls away. It shifts in her mind like quicksand, changes shape, turns into smoke slipping through her fingers.

Moments later, it solidifies again.

“Xandra,” she murmurs, but something in her voice distorts and corrupts those syllables. There’s something raw and bitter to the taste, like fruit plucked prematurely.

That  _ is _ her name, isn’t it?

Astra is rewarded with a smile just slightly bordering on cocky, and it removes some of her uncertainty. “Hey you,” Xandra tucks a piece of her hair back in a familiar, affectionate gesture, her fingertips pleasantly cool against Astra’s temple. “Feeling better after yesterday?”

Hey you.  _ Hey you _ .

It’s casual, irreverent, and distinctly un-Kryptonian, though Astra has no trouble understanding her. She must have encountered similar phrases on distant worlds, though she can’t remember exactly which ones.

“I am… uncertain,” she replies honestly, trying to recall exactly what happened the day before.

Vivid memories seep into her mind as she searches for context. Flickers of their life together fall into place in bulky, uneven pieces like they’re being stitched together from fragments that once formed something else. She watches her memories of their life together like a first-person play.

She sees Commander Tel after a wildly successful raid on a slaver ring, white teeth shining against his dusky skin, a soldier from his battalion blushing under his arm.  _ Ah, my friend! Allow me to introduce the young woman who saved my life _ \- enigmatic brown eyes land on hers and his words fade into the distance.

Long eyelashes fall against a smooth cheek as Xandra lowers her gaze and bows, respectfully acknowledging Astra’s higher rank. Astra opts for a less formal introduction, coveting not only her respect, but also her affection. Xandra smiles beautifully, and it feels like an important victory of her own. Later in the evening, Tel’s off-and-on lover joins them and listening to Tel’s wild stories quickly turns into watching Tel verbally joust with Non. Astra finally allows her eyes to succumb to Xandra’s gravity, pleased to find that the other woman is already looking at her. They fall easily into conversation, recount military strategy and famous ship battles, speak with fond admiration of Kandorian poets, reminisce about their families.

And of course, as warriors do, they spar. Even as they circle each other, Astra is already falling into Xandra’s gaze, unsteady in her mental footing before her opponent makes a single attack. But she’s not considered one of the best fighters of her generation for nothing. Muscle memory propels her forward with water-like grace and experience triumphs over ambition. Xandra’s auburn hair is bright against the padded floor as she struggles beneath Astra’s hold.

Xandra gets up again and again. It takes her months, but eventually, she wins. Her cheeks are pink and her breaths are shallow and she is utterly unsuccessful at suppressing her triumphant grin. She offers a hand up, but all Astra wants is to pull her down and cover her with kisses. But risking her heart feels even more terrifying than risking her life, so Astra waits.

They become inseparable. Xandra’s long, maroon dress flutters around her legs as they dance at one of those stiff political social functions Astra never used to enjoy. Dark red wine meets bright red lips, a subtle vein moves in her neck as she swallows. Alura likes her just fine, but little Kara absolutely  _ adores _ her and the feeling is clearly mutual. Once, Xandra makes Kara laugh until she passes out from sheer exhaustion, and she turns to Astra, pulls in a breath to speak, but Astra stops her words with her lips.

Their kiss again and again. Ever since that warm afternoon, they’ve never really stopped kissing. They kiss in the violet-blue glow of an alien moonrise. They kiss in private chambers, where the darkness steals their vision and all they have are touch and sound. They kiss beneath the first rays of morning light. They kiss, albeit carefully, while recovering from injuries. On one notable occasion, they kiss in front of clerics while their family and friends shower them with blessings.

Even when missions keep them apart for months at a time, they find moments to speak quietly on a private holographic channel. Even when Astra uncovers something more terrifying than either of them could possibly imagine, they hold each other at home. Even when meetings with the High Council are belligerent and sleepless nights stretch on for eons, their hands seek each other out from time to time. Even when they’re going through the worst years of their lives, making plans that would have once been unthinkable, there is trust between them, and there is love.

“Dearest?” Xandra looks worried, and Astra refocuses on her with a quick, murmured apology.

_ Dearest  _ is a considerable change from… whatever it was she said before. Isn't it? Astra can’t quite remember anymore, but something seems ill-fitting about it. She watches a lock of Xandra’s hair fall over her shoulder (has it always been long?), and struggles to shake this inexplicable feeling of dissonance.

Restlessness brings her to her feet and carries her across the room. The chamber is elegant and comfortable, not a single piece of furniture extraneous or out of place, artful yet functional. The majestic architecture of Argo City twists outside her window.

“I am home. And yet I feel… displaced,” Astra observes aloud.

Xandra moves to stand beside her. “You spent so long burdened with fears from when our planet was very nearly lost, that you left a piece of yourself behind.”

Astra closes her eyes. It comes in flashes. Chaos. Devastation. Billions of voices silenced in ash and fire as she watches confined and powerless.

“It must have been a nightmare,” she says weakly, shaking her head, for surely such fantastical horror could only have been a product of her fearful imagination.

Xandra lightly touches the back of her hand. Astra turns her wrist to intertwine their fingers.

“The war is won, my love,” she reminds her gently. “The new technology is working. Our planet is healing itself slowly but surely, and we’ve regained control with almost no physical side-effects. Alura is safe. Young Kara is not plagued by loss. It was your brave leadership that saved us all.”

Each word chases a little bit more of Astra’s uneasiness away. She squeezes Xandra’s hand affectionately. “As I recall, I had more than a bit of help.”

Xandra smoothes her thumb over Astra’s knuckles. “I couldn't just stand by while our civilization faced annihilation. That burden should never have belonged to you alone.”

“My methods were not exactly conventional,” Astra points out.

“You’ve always had my trust, General,” comes the easy reply. “It is idealism that drives your brilliant, tactical mind. Even when you needed the occasional reminder of what you truly stood for, your heart has never led you astray.”

Astra steps in close. “You have always inspired me to be better than I am,” she whispers, and when their lips meet, it feels like returning home all over again.

Xandra lets go of her hand to wrap her arms around her shoulders. Astra pulls her even closer.

Just as the kiss begins to deepen, the silvery voice of their robot servant interrupts the moment. “Mistress Astra and Mistress Xandra, you have two visitors.”

They pull away reluctantly.

“That must be your sister and the Little One,” Xandra guesses, a little breathless.

“Right,” Astra takes a steadying breath. “Let them in, Jovix.”

“As you wish, Mistress Astra.”

And to her wife, she husks, “We will continue this later.”

Xandra gives her a teasing smile that holds many promises, before they head to the main living area.

It’s usually Kara that comes running for a hug while the adults smile at her excitability, but Astra beats her to it this time.

The moment she sees them, she practically flies forward and wraps them both up in a bruising hug.

“Hi Aunt Astra,” Kara giggles, throwing her arm around Astra’s neck and nuzzling her cheek, standing on tiptoes in order to reach.

Alura is somewhat more hesitant. It takes her a handful of seconds to hug Astra back, and even then, the touch is tentative.

Their relationship, like Krypton, has a long way to heal. After Alura chose to let Astra go, and the entire world fell silent, and they all woke up to brighter skies, there was a long stretch of time in which Alura didn't look at Astra. Even while she betrayed her own work ethic by keeping Astra’s identity from the authorities, she didn't speak to her or let her see Kara. It took years for her to come around, and when she did, it was mainly at Kara’s behest. It is uncertain if Alura will ever trust Xandra again.

Astra doesn't care about that right now, just squeezes her family tighter.

She lets herself hold onto them for a minute.

She lets herself hold onto them for five.

Kara starts to squirm and Alura gets confused, giving her back a couple of awkward pats. “It’s lovely to see you too, sister,” her tone borders on concern, “but this is getting to be a bit odd. Are you alright?” She pulls back to scrutinize her.

“It’s nothing, just -” Astra lifts her shoulder in a shrug, though the moisture that has gathered in her eyes undermines her rather poor attempt at feigning nonchalance. “I’ve missed you both, that’s all.”

“We shared a meal only yesterday,” Alura remarks.

“But that doesn't mean we didn't miss you too,” Kara adds diplomatically, and Astra takes the opportunity to examine her.

Her hair has turned a few shades lighter since she was a young child. Her voice is just a bit deeper. She has almost reached Astra’s chin, but she has yet to outgrow her sense of wonder.

“Look at you,” she says, reaching up to cup her chin. “In just a few years, you’ll be taller than I am.” Kara fidgets a little beneath her scrutiny, but she nonetheless beams sweetly at her, crinkling her eyes happily.

Had Astra ever regarded the world with such unblemished joy? Had Alura? Astra has witnessed many wonders in her lifetime, but none can compare to watching Kara grow into a bright and promising future. Whatever doubts she’d had about her methods, they vanish in moments like these. Saving Krypton had been a lofty goal, but what had kept her motivated through the darkest of doubts were thoughts of her loved ones. Whenever she needed a concrete reminder of that future she was fighting for, she looked no further than her niece’s smile.

A stomach rumbles loudly between them, derailing her admittedly sappy train of thought.

Astra laughs brightly while the poor girl flushes in embarrassment. She kisses her on the forehead. “Oh, Little One,” she murmurs against the little scar between her eyebrows. “I hope you never change.”

They’re halfway through their midday meal when Jovix speaks up again. “Mistress Astra and Mistress Xandra, you have one visitor.”

“Hm, that’s odd. Were we expecting anyone else?” Astra asks her wife.

Xandra rolls her eyes. “It’s most likely Tel again, come halfway across the city unannounced just so he can complain about whatever graceless thing Non has done this time.”

Alura shakes her head. “How those two have managed to live together for so long, I cannot even begin to comprehend.”

Astra chuckles. It is a sentiment she once shared. Non is humorless and overly formal, a stiff-lipped counterpart to Tel’s easy congeniality. He’s not exactly well-liked at the Military Guild. Soldiers are expected to be tough, but there is a meanness about him that has not endeared him to many of his superiors: that vicious little smile he wears whenever he bests someone in training, or that sharp bristle at any perceived slight. But beneath his dour exterior, Astra has observed a quiet intelligence. He can be thoughtful, even profound at times, and fiercely,  _ fiercely _ protective of Tel.

Astra supposes her wary fondness of the man makes him almost a friend, though she fears what would become of him should anything ever happen to Tel. Xandra joked once that she’d probably adopt him out of loyalty. Astra suspects that may not be far from the truth.

If she’s perfectly honest, Non’s relationship with Tel reminds her a little of her own with Xandra. Tel brings out the best in him, softens his claws, challenges his assumptions. And in return, Non provides the overly trusting Tel with a healthy level of pragmatism.

“Shall I grant access, Mistress Astra?” Jovix prompts.

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you.”

The wall slides open, and it is not Tel.

“Aunt Astra! Oh thank goodness.”

Astra’s stomach twists in dread and recognition at the tall blonde in red and blue. “Kara?”

The younger Kara leans from her seat to get a better look at the visitor, tilting her head curiously. “I’m right here, Aunt Astra.”

Astra looks back at her, sitting in a white tunic next to her mother, about half a head shorter than Xandra. She knits her brow. “Yes, Little One. Of course.”

“Come with me,” the visitor with her niece’s face speaks again, voice tight with urgency. “There isn’t much time. We have to get out of here.”

“Dearest? Is everything alright?” Xandra walks over to the doorway, lightly resting her hand on the small of Astra’s back and frowning curiously at the strange visitor.

Blue eyes widen in shock. “Alex?? What are  _ you _ doing here?”

“It’s Xandra. And I  _ live _ here, not that it’s any of your business.”

The Kara lookalike looks her up and down. Then she looks between the two of them, and her eyes widen impossibly further. “Oh golly, you're not really her,” she mutters in Xandra’s direction, though she’s really talking to herself.

“Who in the world is Alex?” Astra asks. She has never heard that name before, but when it leaves her lips, it doesn’t feel as unfamiliar as it should. And as if the mere act of speaking it shakes something loose within her, the room shifts out of focus for a fraction of a second.

Fragments of memory warp out of alignment. There’s something else buried underneath.  _ A brave, beautiful, breakable reflection of her wife standing on the other side of a glass tank. A frail neck beneath Astra’s fingers.  _ Help us _ , she begs. _

Astra shakes her head to dislodge these visions. They’re nothing more than lingering memories from a nightmare. Just paranoid fiction.

“I think… I think you’re a little confused,” Astra takes a step backward and Xandra rubs her back consolingly. “I think it would be best for you to leave. Jovix, please escort -”

“Aunt Astra, please, you  _ have _ to listen to me,” the stranger speaks quickly, and there is urgency in her words, and there is anger.  _ Pain in Kara’s angry blue eyes, her face rendered harsh in bright, yellow light, a fist rearing back - _ “None of this is real. You’re on Earth. General Lane got his hands on a Black Mercy -”  _ Rough hands holding her still, faces rendered sickly green in lighting that makes her limbs feel deathly heavy, a long needle sinking into her neck, a unmerciful thumb pressing down on the plunger, her veins growing millions of razor-sharp teeth gnawing into her flesh - _

Astra shoves those thoughts away, even though they cling to her like tar. They cannot be real.

Alura’s footsteps behind her, those are real. Astra focuses on the warmth of her hand on her shoulder, the warmth of Xandra’s hand at her back, the soft pressure of little Kara holding her hand.

This is where she belongs. These are the people she belongs with. Alura loves her. Kara loves her. Tel is alive and Non is happy. She has the love of a brave and capable warrior who knows her heart and whose morality she trusts. She never had to align herself with the power-hungry, never lost sight of what truly mattered. She is not alone on a distant world, but home among her people, watching the youth flourish, watching Kara grow.

“If you have a shred of mercy in your heart, leave us in peace,” Alura implores. “My sister has sacrificed enough for this world and our people. Do not be so cruel as to demand more from her.”

The woman with Kara’s face stares mutely at Alura. A tear tracks down her cheek, grief palpable in her hunched shoulders. “I can’t - I can’t do that Mom. I’m so sorry,” she directs her apology to all of them.

Astra’s heart breaks for her. Astra’s heart breaks for herself.

“I know how much you want to believe in all of this,” Kara says sadly. “I’ve been exactly where you are. But Earth  _ needs _ you.  _ I  _ need you -”

Astra is quick to shake her head in denial. “You don’t, not truly. You’ve grown into a perfectly capable -”

“That’s not for you to say!” Kara snaps. Her words are angry but her face is terrified. “You don’t get to just leave me alone again.”

Astra reaches out to touch Kara’s face. “Oh, my Little One. You’ve become so strong, so brave. I’m proud of you,” she says honestly, though her voice is hollow. “But I’m tired… so tired, do you understand? Let me stay for a little while longer. I won’t be far behind you.”

Even though a part of her already knows what her answer will be, she still breaks apart when Kara regretfully shakes her head. “You know I can’t do that. And... I don’t believe that you really want me to. I know you regret not being there for me. So don't abandon me now.”

The world around her blurs out of focus as tears stream down Astra’s face. She chokes on a noise of wordless pain.

Kara pulls her into a tight hug. “J’onn, Winn, James, even Eliza, they all care about you. Just between you and me? Alex probably likes you back, even if she’s every bit as infuriatingly stubborn as you are. And… I’m probably not as cute anymore, but I still love you. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Astra nods against Kara’s shoulder, and after a moment, she pulls back, brushing away her tears, regaining a bit of her composure. Kara’s hand around hers is firm and sure, and Astra lets her lead her away from a life that will never again be hers.

It’s the longest step she has ever taken, halfway across the galaxy into a dark and unknown future.

**Author's Note:**

> So, rather than whole-assing one thing for General Danvers Week, or half-assing two things, I'm seventh-assing seven things. This is gonna be fun.
> 
> If you haven't already heard of this event, you can read all about it [at this cool website.](http://generaldanversweek.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please leave a comment with any thoughts, reactions, or constructive criticism.


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